


Anatole's Intimates

by hopingforaword



Series: Cuddles ‘verse [2]
Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anatole explains gay sex to Natasha but not very well, Dirty Talk, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-23 09:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13187289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopingforaword/pseuds/hopingforaword
Summary: NO EXPLICIT INCEST I PROMISEthey talk about past incest, but there is no explicit incest





	1. Anatole's Wife

Anatole was laying with his arms wrapped around Natasha. Both were breathing heavily as Anatole pressed a kiss onto Natasha’s head. He pulled the blankets over the two of them and sighed into her hair. “Are you okay, chérie?”

“Okay?” Natasha breathed, “Okay? I’m fantastic, and you know it.” She smacked his shoulder playfully and smiled, eyes closed, as she turned to put her head on his chest. “You just want me to tell you that it was wonderful, that my soul left my body or something.”

Anatole smiled mischievously. “Perhaps.”

Natasha laughed, and opened her eyes, running her fingers gently over his bare chest, not looking her husband in the eyes. “I always tell you how good it is, but you never really tell me.”

Anatole lifted Natasha’s chin until their eyes met. “Belle, do you want me to tell you?” Natasha nodded slightly. “Oh, Natalie, you are always so fantastic. Incredible.” He kissed her forehead and she smiled, still looking worried. “What’s wrong?”

“I guess I’m just worried I’m not as good as them. Your other lovers.”

“That’s silly, Natasha,” Anatole scoffed, “Most of these people weren’t even around for long enough that I remember them.”

“Most?”

“Only two did anything remotely like staying.”

“Who?”

Anatole looked at her steadily, and Natasha looked back unflinchingly. “I need to know that you’ll never tell  _ anyone _ what I’m about to tell you, Natasha. Not even Sonya.”

Natasha nodded. “You have my word, Anatole. Now tell me!” She sounded like an excited schoolgirl hearing a secret from her best friend, and it struck Anatole how small she looked curled up in his arms. She was too young for all of this, especially for these secrets. But she had given her word. He had to tell her.

“The only two lovers I’ve had who have stayed by me are Fedya and Héléne.” He watched as Natasha’s eyes grew wide and she sat up. Anatole pulled himself up, leaning against the headboard of their bed.

“Fedya Dolokhov? Héléne Bezukhova?” Anatole nodded. “But she’s your sister! And Dolokhov is… a man!”

“Héléne… I don’t know. I can’t explain it. We were younger. I think I was seventeen and she was whatever age she was. We were kids, lonely kids.” Natasha’s brow was still furrowed. “We haven’t in quite a while. Not since I met you. So don’t think… you’re not competing with her. Not that anyone could beat you.” Anatole reached out and squeezed one of Natasha’s hands. She closed her eyes and smiled slightly, tension visibly leaving her shoulders.

“And Fedya?”

Anatole shrugged. “Pleasure is pleasure. I like it, and I’m not hurting anyone, so that’s reason enough to do it.”

“But it’s illegal.” The worry in Natasha’s eyes almost made Anatole laugh. She was so sweet, so innocent, so caring. He was so much luckier than he knew a man could be.

“I’ve been careful.”

Natasha bit her lip, staring just to the side of Anatole’s hips. “How does it work?”

“What?”

“How…” she gesticulated wildly. “You and Fedya, two men. How?”

Anatole laughed and Natasha looked affronted. “It’s not you, Natasha. It’s a good question, if you don’t know about it. I’ve just never thought about explaining it.” He laughed again, running his hand through his hair. “It’s a little disgusting, thinking about it in the abstract.”

“Then why do you do it?”

“It’s not disgusting when we’re doing it. So, two men sleep together by… well, they have to choose who’s going to be the ‘man’ and who’s going to be the ‘woman.’”

“Which do you choose?”

Anatole looked at Natasha. Despite her protestations, she looked more intrigued than disgusted. “Both. With Fedya, I like to do both. I like to let him fuck me, and I like to fuck him.” Natasha’s eyes were getting wider, and Anatole dropped to a whisper. “I like to grab him and pull him into my apartments. I like kissing him, rough, all teeth and hands, pulling his clothes off, throwing him down onto the bed, and grabbing his ass as I take him. But I like being on the other side just as much. Love being grabbed and fucked, watching him oil himself up before he shoves himself into me, love the burn of my ass, love feeling dirty and used after.”

Natasha sat up and kissed him. Anatole could feel her heart racing against her chest as he kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her. Suddenly, she pulled back and there was a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Anatole, you have to invite Dolokhov for a visit.”

Anatole gaped at her. “You want us to… and you want to watch?”

“Watch, help, whatever seems natural,” she whispered, and Anatole shivered at the look in her eyes. “Do you think he would let me?”

“I think there’s very little Fedya Dolokhov wouldn’t do, Natasha.”

She grinned. “Sounds good to me. But right now, I think I should tend to my husband.” Natasha reached down to where Anatole was hard and dripping, as if they hadn’t had sex only fifteen minutes earlier. 

“Sounds good to me,” Anatole replied, leaning back in for a kiss. 


	2. Anatole's Sister, Natasha's Sister-in-law

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NO EXPLICIT INCEST I PROMISE  
> they talk about past incest, but there is no explicit incest

Natasha sat on the guest room bed, watching Héléne pack her bags. “I’m so sorry to see you go so soon.”

“Natasha, darling,” Héléne laughed. “I’ve been out here with you and Anatole for two weeks. As much as I adore you both, I must return to my husband.” She rolled her eyes and sat next to Natasha.

“I feel like there’s so much we haven’t spoken about.”

“I’ll write letters, darling,” Héléne said, stroking Natasha’s cheek, “But really, I don’t know how you and Anatole survive out here. I need the city, I need people.” She laughed. “I love the attention.”

“Don’t I know it,” Natasha huffed.

Héléne raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, I–”

“Nothing anyone has ever said means nothing, Natasha. What did you mean by that?”

“Anatole told me about the two of you. What you used to do.”

Héléne nodded slowly. “And?”

Natasha squirmed away from Héléne’s scrutinizing gaze. “I don’t know. It made me feel… I don’t know! I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, or what I really do feel. I don’t know, Héléne, I’m just trying to make sense of it all.”

“You know what I think you’re feeling?” Héléne asked, a hand slowly rubbing Natasha’s knee cap. “I think you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?” Natasha laughed, all the air in her body expelled in the one sound.

“Yes,” Héléne whispered, and Natasha’s smile fell to a look of shock. “You’re jealous. I’ve seen you watching me these past two weeks. Trying to figure it out. You’ve been pushing it away as being jealous that I had Anatole first, the same way every woman is jealous of everyone who came before her.” Natasha whimpered. “But that’s not it. That’s too convenient. You’re jealous of Anatole. Jealous that he got to sleep with me.”

“You say ‘got to’ like it’s hard,” Natasha snapped.

“And all your cute little digs have just been your way of putting your feelings for me aside. Well Natasha, when are you going to start taking what you want? You ran away from a respectable marriage to a respected man and a life of glamour and glory in Moscow to elope with an infamous scoundrel and live in the country. What’s the point in not being watched if you’re not going to do anything interesting?”

Natasha swallowed. “What exactly are you offering, Héléne?”

Héléne grinned. “Whatever you want, darling. But make your decision quick. I leave for Moscow in a few hours.”

“Will it take that long?”

Héléne smirked. “Will what take that long? I know you’re a pure little princess from the country, but I won’t do it until you ask me for it, darling.”

“Can we… lie together?”

Rolling her eyes, Héléne said, “I guess that’s the best we’ll get from you, huh? Yes, Natasha.” She stood and crossed to the door, bolting it shut. “It wouldn’t do to have my brother wander in, would it?”

“Anatole!” Natasha exclaimed, “Won’t he be angry with me?”

“Oh don’t worry, darling,” Héléne reassured her, busy with the buttons on her dress, “He suggested that it might be something you wanted. He has a way of knowing what people need, doesn’t he? Now be a dear and come help me out of this thing.” 

Natasha stood up and tentatively crossed the room. She stood behind Héléne and undid the last few buttons. Héléne shrugged off her dress and stepped out of it, facing Natasha in her corset and stockings. “Well, let’s get you out of your dress.”

“Wait,” Natasha said, “Aren’t you going to kiss me first?”

“Ah, to be young and romantic again,” Héléne sighed. She leaned forward, putting her hands gently on the back of Natasha’s head, and kissed her. Natasha wrapped her arms around Héléne’s neck, breathing in the scent of her perfume. Natasha felt Héléne’s hands slide down her neck to the buttons on her dress as Héléne’s tongue found its way into Natasha’s mouth. Natasha gasped as Héléne undid the clasps, and stepped back to let her dress fall to the floor.

“Oh, Natasha,” Héléne sighed, “You are a beautiful girl.” She laid down on the bed and pat the spot next to her, smiling devilishly. “Won’t you join me?”

Natasha laid down next to Héléne and smiled at her. Héléne smiled back before pouncing, pushing Natasha down against the mattress with the force of her kiss, slipping one hand between Natasha’s drawers and her warm skin.

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” Natasha gasped, her fingers quickly undoing the laces on Héléne’s corset.

“I want to make you scream before I leave for Moscow.” Natasha finished the laces, and Héléne pushed her corset off. “Like what you see?” 

Natasha leaned up, kissing Héléne hard on the mouth before trailing her kisses along Héléne’s neck, reaching her breasts and sucking one of her nipples gently. Héléne gasped.

“Did I do something wrong?” Natasha asked, eyes wide.

“No, you’re just a quick learner.” Héléne teased Natasha’s clitoris gently, and Natasha breathed heavily, hips pushing into the air. “Does that feel good, Natasha?” Natasha nodded fervently, her hands cupping Héléne’s breasts. “You have to tell me, darling, so I know what you like.”

“Yes, it feels good Héléne.”

“You don’t sound too enthusiastic.”

“Please, Héléne,” Natasha gasped. 

Héléne smiled. “That’s more like it.” She slipped two fingers of her other hand into Natasha, who squealed. “You look so gorgeous, Natasha, all laid out and panting, enjoying yourself, not worrying about other people, finally just doing what feels good for you. It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“So good,” Natasha whimpered.

“Can you do something for me, Natasha?” Héléne asked.

“Anything.”

Héléne kissed Natasha, then whispered in her ear, “Come for me.”

Natasha cried out as she spasmed in pleasure, clenching around Héléne’s fingers. Héléne watched, a grin plastered on her face. When Natasha was still again, Héléne withdrew her fingers and pushed her own drawers down. “Watch me, Natasha.” 

Natasha dutifully watched as Héléne copied what she had just done to Natasha on her own body. “You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha,” Héléne whispered before she came.

They passed a few moments in silence, staring at the ceiling of Natasha’s guest room, before Héléne began to dress. “I have to be going.” When she was dressed again, she grabbed her bag and kissed Natasha on the cheek. “I’ll tell Anatole we already said our goodbyes.”

“But I didn’t get to do it to you.”

Héléne smiled. “Next time you’re in Moscow or I’m out here, I promise. Goodbye, Natasha.” She left, and Natasha sat there, staring at the ceiling, until the door opened again. Natasha looked up and saw Anatole. 

“I slept with Héléne,” she boasted immediately.

Anatole laughed, “I put that together from your lack of clothes, and the screaming, and the fact that Héléne told me as she left.”

“She told you?”

“Said you were ‘beautifully responsive,’ and that I should be on my knees every day thanking God and you.” Anatole smiled and laid down next to Natasha, brushing a hair out of her face. “I probably could get on my knees for you more often, couldn’t I?”

“Was I screaming that loud?”

“If we had neighbors they would be scandalized.” Anatole smiled. “But given that we don’t, I’d like to try my hand at making you scream like that.”

Natasha smiled. “I think I’ll allow it.”


	3. Anatole’s Best Friend

“Pleasantries aside,” Fedya said, setting down his cup on the dinner table, “Why did you invite me here?” Anatole looked from Fedya to his wife. It had been a month since he had initially written to Fedya, asking him to spend a week or so out in the country, but now that he was finally here Anatole had no idea hope to go about getting what Natasha desired. 

“Well, Fedya,” Anatole replied, losing his natural charm slightly as he searched for words, “My darling Natasha here had an idea.”

Fedya raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What kind of idea?”

“You see—”

“I know you’ve slept with Anatole,” Natasha broke in. The weight of her words settled over them as Fedya looked at Anatole. “And I want to watch,” Natasha said softly. 

Fedya’s eyebrow arched higher, and he looked from Anatole to Natasha. “No.”

“No?” Anatole said, shocked. 

“No,” Fedya confirmed. “It would be unfair to all of us to have a woman as beautiful as Natasha and only have her watch.” Fedya smirked at Natasha, who felt her cheeks get hot as she met his gaze. “We will do it, all three of us. Together.” 

Anatole whistled. “You’ve had some good ideas, Fedya, but this one…” He whistled again and shook his head. “Perfect.” He looked at Natasha. Her head was cocked, brow furrowed and tongue between her teeth. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“How will it work?”

“Well,” said Fedya, standing up and walking around to kneel next to Natasha, “I was thinking that I would fuck your beautiful husband while he fucks you. What do you think, Natasha?”

Natasha looked over at Anatole, whose skin had flushed at the mere verbalization of Fedya’s wishes, and licked her lips quickly. “I think I’d enjoy that very much.”

Fedya looked up at her from where he was kneeling, searching her face for the innocent school girl love that had once been so off-putting to him. Natasha’s months in the country with Anatole had erased that, or at least hidden it behind the want, the need that he could see in her now. Her eyes were almost all pupil, and her breathing was speeding up slightly as she looked at her husband. “I thought you might,” Fedya breathed in Natasha’s ear before he gently turned her face towards his. She leaned forward immediately, tangling her long fingers in his hair and kissing him hard. Fedya heard Anatole’s breathing change as Fedya stood up, pulling Natasha with him. He pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “Look at Anatole.”

Natasha looked at her husband as another man’s hands trailed down her back, toying with the closures of her dress, grabbing her ass gently. Anatole’s face held no anger, no jealousy. His eyes and mouth were wide, chest heaving, hands squeezing onto his own thighs so hard she was sure there would be bruises tomorrow for her to tend to. She smiled and beckoned him towards her and Fedya. Anatole rose and crossed the floor slowly. When he reached where Natasha stood, Fedya slowly leaving love bites along her neck and undoing her dress, Anatole kissed Natasha immediately, pressing his body against her. Natasha felt Anatole’s erection through their clothes and wanted desperately to touch him, to be naked with him and Fedya. “Fedya,” she whispered, her forehead pressed to Anatole’s, “I think it’s time to go upstairs.” 

Without saying a word, Fedya scooped Natasha into a bridal carry and began walking toward the stairs. “Are you coming, Kuragin, or are you too scared already?” 

Anatole shook his head and followed Fedya up the stairs to the bedroom. When he walked in, mere seconds behind Natasha and Fedya, he found them already entangled on the bed, clumsily stripping each other as they feverishly kissed and bit at each other’s lips. Silently, Anatole undressed himself and sat in his armchair, lazily stroking himself. This whole night was for Natasha, and he wanted to see what she would do. 

Fedya was thrusting gently against Natasha as she ran her fingers teasingly along his spine. “Oh, Fedya, fuck me.” Fedya pulled back and looked at her.

“That wasn’t the original plan.”

Natasha sat up, looking warily at him. “I know, but–”

“Give the lady what she wants, Dolokhov.” Natasha and Fedya both looked at Anatole. “If I know you and the randy bastard you are, you’ll be able to get it up a second time just fine. So go ahead. Unless, of course, you think you can’t satisfy her.” There was a challenging twinkle in Anatole’s eye, and Fedya growled slightly in response.

“Of course I can satisfy her,” he said under his breath, pulling Natasha’s slip over her head, “Are you ready, Natasha?”

“God, please, Fedya! Just put it in already!”

Fedya looked at Anatole with an eyebrow raised. “Is she always like this?”

“Quite often.”

“No wonder you won’t go to the brothels anymore.” Fedya turned back to Natasha and slid into her in one fluid motion, loosing a series of gasps and moans from Natasha. Slowly, Fedya began to rock his hips and Natasha dug her fingers into his shoulders.

“Let her ride you,” Anatole whispered from his seat, hand flying furiously over his own cock. “She’s really good at it, and it might make her come.”

“Do you want to ride me, Natasha?” Fedya whispered in her ear.

“God, fuck, yes!” Fedya pulled out and Natasha practically tackled him to the bed, straddling him and immediately sinking down with a moan. 

Crossing the room almost silently, Anatole was behind Natasha, kissing the side of her neck. “Go fast, Natasha. He likes fast.” Immediately Natasha began slamming her hips down and Fedya’s groans grew louder. Anatole slipped his arms around Natasha, one hand massaging her breasts, the other slipping between her thighs to gently fondle her clitoris. The added stimulation pushed Natasha over the top, and she gasped as she came. Fedya was close behind her, the contractions of her orgasm leading to his. Natasha slid gracefully off of Fedya’s cock and onto the bed. She looked up at her husband, who was smiling at her. 

“You’re still hard,” Natasha said.

“Come here,” Fedya beckoned softly. Anatole walked toward him, sitting in front of Fedya on the bed as Fedya sat up. The kiss they shared was much sweeter than Natasha would have expected, much more about love than sex. That changed slightly as Fedya wrapped his fingers slowly around Anatole’s cock, pulling slowly and gently until Anatole pulled away.

“Don’t be a tease, Fedya.” Anatole crawled toward Natasha as Fedya got off the bed. “Hello, darling. Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” Natasha said, pulling her husband in for a kiss as his fingers gently pushed inside her. She gasped into his mouth, pulling at his hair playfully. The bed sank slightly as Fedya climbed back on, sitting behind her husband.

“Are you ready, Anatole?”

“Yes.”

“Ready for what?” Natasha asked.

Anatole cleared his throat. “Fedya is going to finger me. So that he… fits.”

Natasha nodded and kissed her husband as Fedya’s fingers slowly stretched Anatole and Anatole’s fingers rolled and massaged Natasha’s clitoris. She was breathing so loudly that Natasha almost didn’t hear Fedya whisper, “I think he’s ready.” Natasha leaned to the side slightly to watch as Fedya slid into her husband. Anatole’s face slackened and his breathing picked up as Fedya slowly thrust in and out. Natasha grinned over Anatole’s shoulder at Fedya and slowly slid herself onto Anatole’s cock. His eyes opened and he smiled at Natasha.

“Come on, Anatole,” she whispered, “Fuck me.” Immediately, Anatole’s hips began pistoning into his wife. She grabbed his ass, one hand grazing where Fedya had begun to fuck Anatole so roughly that the bed was shaking. Natasha threw her head back and groaned as Anatole bit a trail down her neck and over her breasts. She felt him begin to stutter and could tell from the symphony of groans that both men were reaching their climaxes. Natasha smiled as both of them collapsed onto the mattress beside her. Anatole slowly opened his eyes and smiled at her, and Natasha smiled back. “This was fun.”

Anatole kissed her hand. “Agreed.”

Fedya yawned. “So how long do you think I should wait before I come to visit again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me through all this porn. I hope you enjoyed it


End file.
